[So like. Hopefully Dave Strider is enjoying his day out because by the time he comes back to his dorm he'll find a couple of weird things are going on here. First of all, that second bed across from his now has gray sheets and a gray comforter that definitely used to be blue. There are a few boxes scattered around on that side of the room as well with duffel bags and a few pillows piled on the mattress. Clothes hang out of the second closet and the second desk already hosts a few school items and an actual desktop computer.
A keyboard appears to be peaking out from the very edge under the bed and there's a soccer ball in an empty laundry basket. A bass is leaning up against the footboard of the bed and on the dresser there are a few scattered items.
Basically, there is definitely someone moving in. If Dave doesn't move from the doorway though, he'll soon find himself being collided into from the back and a startled noise of surprise follows as a cell phone clatters to the floor.]
Shit. [And down he goes to collect it.] Sorry--[And then he Looks and notices that Dave's just. There.] Can...I help you?
what if i give you excessive bracket text because i CAN.
[ he'd already started moving from the doorway, thanks. he heard the footsteps, and he'd been edging in to try to figure out what was up, though it occurred to him he should check the nameplates. but this was supposed to be a single.
granted, it'd been a double room, but he was supposed to have a single. before he'd fucked off into space for most of a month, he'd had one. he'd checked it out, even. his side of the room is neat and tidy - it won't stay that way, exactly, although he doesn't like leaving his stuff around to be browsed through - and he's too-quick to dodge an incoming touch from behind. just a hair too quick, though. for all he'd hugged his friends coming back from outer space, dave still doesn't really like being touched.
especially not from behind. he opens his mouth to ask what the fuck is going on or something more intelligent but the "shit" registers in his mind. or not even the word, or anything that follows, but the voice.
dave turns, eyes wide behind his shades, and...stares for a heartbeat. because he knows the voice, he knows the face - the eyes aren't right, but the color missing has never been quite so jarring.
because there's no recognition on that face, but dave strider absolutely recognizes john egbert. it's like a punch to the gut how immediately he does and how absolutely unfair it is that there's no recognition, and his mind offers up countless memories with that same face, or the stupid blue text egbert used to use, or that voice.
the inane: too many memories to count of just being friends, familiarity born from years of knowing someone. a boy in a lab; game bro is a joke and we both know it in an aside for a stupid everyday conversation and dave knows they'd had millions of them; are you taking notes on how to be cool?? jesus get a fucking pen; we'll talk later if i am still alive and the earth isn't blown up; the stupid juice prank; talking to jade about his present; contemplating juice revenge; no but hes still got a ton so screw him; lying about john snooping on rose; egbert stfu and give me your goddamn boonbuck j3gus fuck and he had without that much trouble, what the fuck; telling jade not to bother john so he could meet his stupid windy destiny instead; promising not to tell john they were making him grab a bomb; john will also be your friend because hes cool and also a doofus who is easy to be friends with and god he'd never genuinely had a single bad thing to say about john that was really genuine; what the hell happened to john; john no stop turning into wind you fickle idiot; thats time travel genius; his bitching about it is literally my only point of reference for his degree of proficiency; standing on the platform, making the new universe; traveling ahead five thousand years; that stupid trickster party, the stupid fact that john was - is? - deathly allergic to peanuts.
the flat-out embarrassing: i should probably text him soon, see what's up; john god dammit stop embarrassing us; dream johns and rose's eyebrow raising; i keep my apartment misted with his odor at all times; what if we ran an experiment and spent the rest of our lives finding out what happened if we never told him;
the terrifying: a phone conversation while shopping (a phone conversation john could remember, and dave recalls being perhaps too honest about how things were and it makes his blood freeze over - a mistake he can't unmake);
the things that hurt: maybe if john was to try with his pure heart and shit it woulda popped out like a champagne cork and fuckin hero confetti woulda blasted him in the face but they'd had to break it because dave strider isn't john egbert; a night sky full of fireflies as john died; talking with terezi about how he'd been outpaced as he looked down at a dave he was never going to kill; johns even better than that even though he doesnt know it at the moment and knowing john egbert would never think that about himself; im not a hero. my bro was. john is. im not; talking with rose when she'd stolen the fucking suicide mission, and would he give a message to john for her - but he'd never heard what it was and he almost hadn't cared because a universe without rose wasn't worth living in even if john and jade were there; but his dad and her mom no matter what they said it was so obvious they cared about them deeply and he'd never had that -
and the things that had meant the entire fucking world: just between you and me i think you might actually be that cool words that had meant everything packaged with the shades he never takes off. because he'd seen space itself crack and his first thought had been thank fuck it wasn't the shades.
more recently, a dream he hadn't thought anything of, on a baseball field and then in a kitchen.
he knows all of them too well. those who have forgotten and those who haven't. he remembers more about aradia and karkat than he is willing to say. ]
That's my line. [ and thank fuck he's past the age where his voice would crack, even if it sounds a little hoarse; he clears his throat. dave's left hand is tight on the headphones at his neck, and he lets himself slouch, casual, and pretends like he always does that things are perfectly all right. it isn't like there's anyone who remembers john who he can text - not anyone he's willing to share with. ] When I went out this mornin', I was the only person living here...? Which is what I requested, so. What's the nameplate say?
[ the terrific thing about shades and a poker face: aside from a minor pause before he'd responded, and the way he'd had to clear his throat, he's playing it off decently. ]
[Naturally, John knows none of that. John doesn't recognize him, doesn't even remember the dream (though maybe he will later), doesn't understand who this is and why he seems to be wearing shades inside. Instead, he's picking up his phone (an older model of iPhone that's seen better days) and shoving it into the pocket of his jeans, quirking an eyebrow and leaning back to read the nameplate next to the door.]
Egbert-Strider. Which I am really hoping you are Strider or we have even more problems than I thought. [He shakes his head then, pausing just briefly to give Dave a better once-over. Gray eyes examine Dave's face, still quizzical and expressive and wide like Dave's seen in memories with dark lashes framing them and pushed against the lenses of his blocky glasses. Even with the confusion in place, he appears to be on the verge of a grin despite it being sheepish, and his hands tuck into his pockets. He's still two inches shorter than Dave, a shock of black hair styled in a particular fashion and a gray hoodie for his high school's baseball team cloaks him. He also makes no movements to enter the room just yet as he gauges Dave's attitude.] When I requested housing I was supposed to be in a single, too. Do you have any idea how long I've been fighting with the housing department on this campus? Weeks. It has been literal weeks and I have been couch-surfing and trying to figure out if I would be dormless or not.
So. I guess this was their solution. [He waves a hand toward the interior of his room. Their room. Fuck.] I was going to talk to them again tomorrow, but at this point I have no idea if they can even rearrange stuff anymore if they keep screwing up this badly.
[ it's funny, really. half the reason he'd moved out was because rose didn't know him. now it's all of them, rose and roxy and dirk, they know dave but the dave they know is the one they grew up with, the kid dave is pretty sure he's not and never was. the one he doesn't know how to be anymore.
even that halfway false way of knowing is better than this complete lack of recognition, though. it's as bad or worse than the same thing from yuri or anya, something he'd worried about in space with the others. what if he came back and they didn't know him? at least they'd still know him on the surface, know his name, know something. ]
I wouldn't bother. [ he suspects it has something to do with how some of them just stopped existing for people for a while last month, a lot of them college-aged. ] At this point there probably ain't any singles left, and I sure as fuck don't have the energy to enter a bureaucratic paper battle. If you do, more power to you, Egbert. But my plans for September involved school and sleep, not arguin' with people over shit that doesn't even matter.
[ there's the slow drawl as usual and any unease or unhappiness doesn't show in his even monotone or on his face as dave drifts towards his bed to take a seat, kicking off his shoes. ]
So I guess that rules out if you're pre-law or not. [There's a smile? Lighten up, Dave. He's just teasing and even when he enters the room and sits on his bed, John's closing the door behind them and heading for his own bed to keep unpacking.]
I am sorry to kind of ruin your dreams of being single. I mean being in a single room. By yourself. Singularly. I wasn't sure what else to do when I saw another name on the door so I sort of figured...maybe it wouldn't be so bad? I've never had a roommate before but how hard can it be?
I used to room with my bro, but that was when we were younger. [ ...not so many years ago, dave? ] But I had a roommate just before this, my best friend. Uh...I guess my only warnings are I have a weird sleep schedule?
[ nightmares and insomnia and paranoia are a great combination, but he just shrugs like it's whatever. ]
Also, no, I'm not pre-law, Egbert. Care to guess again?
You're double ahead of me. I don't even have siblings. [There's a shrug to the sleep schedule thing though as he moves to keep unpacking stuff for his desk.] I can sleep through most things, I probably will not even notice. Thanks for the warning though?
[His eyes glance around the room, roaming over Dave's side to see what he has on display. What's over there, Strider?] Do I win something if I do guess?
[ like. his closet is shut, and so are his drawers? there's a laptop on his desk and some various school supplies (everything is mostly red) and some various posters for little-known bands on the walls.
there's
also definitely a plastic skeleton in a labcoat by the door. ]
Sure. The satisfaction of bein' right, which is the lamest prize in the universe. Uh...I don't know, I have some pizza coupons?
Doc Trombone the second and I have been through a lot together?
[ no they haven't. dave got him last week. ]
Also, science is rad and - [ john ] Egbert is lame, news at eleven. What's your first name, roomie? Or will I be callin' you Egbert the whole time? Egbert, Eggs, [ blue eyes ] short stop, home slice...
And I am sure the two of you are very happy together. [There's still a grin though.] I mean you could call me Eggs if you want? I don't really care, but I don't play shortstop. [What are the chances of Dave not knowing what that means?]
If you ever get bored with that though you can probably just call me John. What about you?
I'm not familiar with a lot of video games? [ PRETTY GOOD CHANCES ]
Dave. [ he licks his lip, stalling, because his throat is dry. ] ...It's nice to meet you, John.
[ and that's kind of how it is, isn't it? it's meeting a stranger who may or may not ever remember dave. who may or may not forget even if he remembers. as usual, he feels distant and more or less alone.
dave gives a lopsided smile. ]
I proposed to him, but his heart is set on science.
[...yeah. That gets a laugh.] Not exactly what I meant, but we should also fix that, like, immediately.
[He gives Dave another curious once-over, not sure what to make of that but...he can deal.] Likewise though, Dave. [Dave Strider. Kind of a cool name. He briefly wonders if the guy's as cool as he presents himself to be. It's a fleeting thought as he gets up, abandoning whatever he was unpacking (speakers, it looks like) and heading toward Dr. Trombone II. He gives him a once-over of his own before holding up one of the doc's hands, waving his wrist a bit.]
I can see that. Poor guy's worked himself to the bone for his one true love.
[ dave can't help it: there's an immediate laugh, although it's soft and more a huff of breath than anything else. he's loud online and he rambles in person, but he's never really had huge over the top reactions - blushing aside, which he just isn't doing right now.
he feels like he's a kid again.
but which dave? ]
He got too into mad science, unfortunately. Turns out that stuff can kill you, or get you turned into a llama. He's had a very hard life? But I am assumin' this means you intend to accept the roommate thing.
[There's a very pleased smile because he always likes when he can get people to laugh, when he can worm his way into someone's good graces and make friends. Making friends is the key to life and John knows that better than anyone...especially since he left behind most of his friends.]
I mean I have a lot of questions about science and llamas, but I think the doc and I can work something out roommate-wise. [A teasing pause.] I guess you can stay too, though, if you want. It could be fun?
[ he's back to his chill neutral after a beat, though, so ]
I mean, I already live here? So. [ HE UNPACKED HIS SHIT HE'S NOT REPACKING IT even if dave could get that done faster than anyone else in recolle. ] You still didn't guess what I'm here fore.
Art. [It's so simply said and he lets go of Dr. Trombone's hand as he moves back to his end of the room, digging around in a box for what looks like a pop-up DVD rack.] Of some kind, anyway. I have never heard of any of the bands in your posters and you have a full-bodied skeleton in a lab coat. I am not sure what kind yet, but definitely more arts than sciences.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
action 9/1 here is my pre-written comment /lays in here
A keyboard appears to be peaking out from the very edge under the bed and there's a soccer ball in an empty laundry basket. A bass is leaning up against the footboard of the bed and on the dresser there are a few scattered items.
Basically, there is definitely someone moving in. If Dave doesn't move from the doorway though, he'll soon find himself being collided into from the back and a startled noise of surprise follows as a cell phone clatters to the floor.]
Shit. [And down he goes to collect it.] Sorry--[And then he Looks and notices that Dave's just. There.] Can...I help you?
what if i give you excessive bracket text because i CAN.
granted, it'd been a double room, but he was supposed to have a single. before he'd fucked off into space for most of a month, he'd had one. he'd checked it out, even. his side of the room is neat and tidy - it won't stay that way, exactly, although he doesn't like leaving his stuff around to be browsed through - and he's too-quick to dodge an incoming touch from behind. just a hair too quick, though. for all he'd hugged his friends coming back from outer space, dave still doesn't really like being touched.
especially not from behind. he opens his mouth to ask what the fuck is going on or something more intelligent but the "shit" registers in his mind. or not even the word, or anything that follows, but the voice.
dave turns, eyes wide behind his shades, and...stares for a heartbeat. because he knows the voice, he knows the face - the eyes aren't right, but the color missing has never been quite so jarring.
because there's no recognition on that face, but dave strider absolutely recognizes john egbert. it's like a punch to the gut how immediately he does and how absolutely unfair it is that there's no recognition, and his mind offers up countless memories with that same face, or the stupid blue text egbert used to use, or that voice.
the inane: too many memories to count of just being friends, familiarity born from years of knowing someone. a boy in a lab; game bro is a joke and we both know it in an aside for a stupid everyday conversation and dave knows they'd had millions of them; are you taking notes on how to be cool?? jesus get a fucking pen; we'll talk later if i am still alive and the earth isn't blown up; the stupid juice prank; talking to jade about his present; contemplating juice revenge; no but hes still got a ton so screw him; lying about john snooping on rose; egbert stfu and give me your goddamn boonbuck j3gus fuck and he had without that much trouble, what the fuck; telling jade not to bother john so he could meet his stupid windy destiny instead; promising not to tell john they were making him grab a bomb; john will also be your friend because hes cool and also a doofus who is easy to be friends with and god he'd never genuinely had a single bad thing to say about john that was really genuine; what the hell happened to john; john no stop turning into wind you fickle idiot; thats time travel genius; his bitching about it is literally my only point of reference for his degree of proficiency; standing on the platform, making the new universe; traveling ahead five thousand years; that stupid trickster party, the stupid fact that john was - is? - deathly allergic to peanuts.
the flat-out embarrassing: i should probably text him soon, see what's up; john god dammit stop embarrassing us; dream johns and rose's eyebrow raising; i keep my apartment misted with his odor at all times; what if we ran an experiment and spent the rest of our lives finding out what happened if we never told him;
the terrifying: a phone conversation while shopping (a phone conversation john could remember, and dave recalls being perhaps too honest about how things were and it makes his blood freeze over - a mistake he can't unmake);
the things that hurt: maybe if john was to try with his pure heart and shit it woulda popped out like a champagne cork and fuckin hero confetti woulda blasted him in the face but they'd had to break it because dave strider isn't john egbert; a night sky full of fireflies as john died; talking with terezi about how he'd been outpaced as he looked down at a dave he was never going to kill; johns even better than that even though he doesnt know it at the moment and knowing john egbert would never think that about himself; im not a hero. my bro was. john is. im not; talking with rose when she'd stolen the fucking suicide mission, and would he give a message to john for her - but he'd never heard what it was and he almost hadn't cared because a universe without rose wasn't worth living in even if john and jade were there; but his dad and her mom no matter what they said it was so obvious they cared about them deeply and he'd never had that -
and the things that had meant the entire fucking world: just between you and me i think you might actually be that cool words that had meant everything packaged with the shades he never takes off. because he'd seen space itself crack and his first thought had been thank fuck it wasn't the shades.
more recently, a dream he hadn't thought anything of, on a baseball field and then in a kitchen.
he knows all of them too well. those who have forgotten and those who haven't. he remembers more about aradia and karkat than he is willing to say. ]
That's my line. [ and thank fuck he's past the age where his voice would crack, even if it sounds a little hoarse; he clears his throat. dave's left hand is tight on the headphones at his neck, and he lets himself slouch, casual, and pretends like he always does that things are perfectly all right. it isn't like there's anyone who remembers john who he can text - not anyone he's willing to share with. ] When I went out this mornin', I was the only person living here...? Which is what I requested, so. What's the nameplate say?
[ the terrific thing about shades and a poker face: aside from a minor pause before he'd responded, and the way he'd had to clear his throat, he's playing it off decently. ]
what if i continue to kick your ass???
Egbert-Strider. Which I am really hoping you are Strider or we have even more problems than I thought. [He shakes his head then, pausing just briefly to give Dave a better once-over. Gray eyes examine Dave's face, still quizzical and expressive and wide like Dave's seen in memories with dark lashes framing them and pushed against the lenses of his blocky glasses. Even with the confusion in place, he appears to be on the verge of a grin despite it being sheepish, and his hands tuck into his pockets. He's still two inches shorter than Dave, a shock of black hair styled in a particular fashion and a gray hoodie for his high school's baseball team cloaks him. He also makes no movements to enter the room just yet as he gauges Dave's attitude.] When I requested housing I was supposed to be in a single, too. Do you have any idea how long I've been fighting with the housing department on this campus? Weeks. It has been literal weeks and I have been couch-surfing and trying to figure out if I would be dormless or not.
So. I guess this was their solution. [He waves a hand toward the interior of his room. Their room. Fuck.] I was going to talk to them again tomorrow, but at this point I have no idea if they can even rearrange stuff anymore if they keep screwing up this badly.
do you wanna go
even that halfway false way of knowing is better than this complete lack of recognition, though. it's as bad or worse than the same thing from yuri or anya, something he'd worried about in space with the others. what if he came back and they didn't know him? at least they'd still know him on the surface, know his name, know something. ]
I wouldn't bother. [ he suspects it has something to do with how some of them just stopped existing for people for a while last month, a lot of them college-aged. ] At this point there probably ain't any singles left, and I sure as fuck don't have the energy to enter a bureaucratic paper battle. If you do, more power to you, Egbert. But my plans for September involved school and sleep, not arguin' with people over shit that doesn't even matter.
[ there's the slow drawl as usual and any unease or unhappiness doesn't show in his even monotone or on his face as dave drifts towards his bed to take a seat, kicking off his shoes. ]
ILL FITE!!!
I am sorry to kind of ruin your dreams of being single. I mean being in a single room. By yourself. Singularly. I wasn't sure what else to do when I saw another name on the door so I sort of figured...maybe it wouldn't be so bad? I've never had a roommate before but how hard can it be?
no subject
[ nightmares and insomnia and paranoia are a great combination, but he just shrugs like it's whatever. ]
Also, no, I'm not pre-law, Egbert. Care to guess again?
no subject
[His eyes glance around the room, roaming over Dave's side to see what he has on display. What's over there, Strider?] Do I win something if I do guess?
no subject
there's
also definitely a plastic skeleton in a labcoat by the door. ]
Sure. The satisfaction of bein' right, which is the lamest prize in the universe. Uh...I don't know, I have some pizza coupons?
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Don't worry about it. But...why is there a plastic skeleton? You did not seem like the science type.
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[ no they haven't. dave got him last week. ]
Also, science is rad and - [ john ] Egbert is lame, news at eleven. What's your first name, roomie? Or will I be callin' you Egbert the whole time? Egbert, Eggs, [ blue eyes ] short stop, home slice...
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If you ever get bored with that though you can probably just call me John. What about you?
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Dave. [ he licks his lip, stalling, because his throat is dry. ] ...It's nice to meet you, John.
[ and that's kind of how it is, isn't it? it's meeting a stranger who may or may not ever remember dave. who may or may not forget even if he remembers. as usual, he feels distant and more or less alone.
dave gives a lopsided smile. ]
I proposed to him, but his heart is set on science.
no subject
[He gives Dave another curious once-over, not sure what to make of that but...he can deal.] Likewise though, Dave. [Dave Strider. Kind of a cool name. He briefly wonders if the guy's as cool as he presents himself to be. It's a fleeting thought as he gets up, abandoning whatever he was unpacking (speakers, it looks like) and heading toward Dr. Trombone II. He gives him a once-over of his own before holding up one of the doc's hands, waving his wrist a bit.]
I can see that. Poor guy's worked himself to the bone for his one true love.
no subject
he feels like he's a kid again.
but which dave? ]
He got too into mad science, unfortunately. Turns out that stuff can kill you, or get you turned into a llama. He's had a very hard life? But I am assumin' this means you intend to accept the roommate thing.
no subject
I mean I have a lot of questions about science and llamas, but I think the doc and I can work something out roommate-wise. [A teasing pause.] I guess you can stay too, though, if you want. It could be fun?
no subject
I mean, I already live here? So. [ HE UNPACKED HIS SHIT HE'S NOT REPACKING IT even if dave could get that done faster than anyone else in recolle. ] You still didn't guess what I'm here fore.
no subject
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[ he can get it on the second, but that's what his brain goes to. music. ]
no subject
[It's what he wants to do, probably, but something he won't quite allow either.]
no subject
[ second guess, rapid-fire. ]
And I would've specified more in music if you'd wanted, dude.
no subject
no subject
[ john had been unpacking his desk. dave flicks his wrist, points lazily. ]
But it didn't have to be your major.
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Photography. Or some sort of art that requires a fine study of details.
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[ also, he totally was guessing bio off what he knows of john, but he'd clocked the book after. ]
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